


Outlasting Love

by candicame



Category: Outlast Whistleblower, oulast
Genre: F/M, Gore, M/M, oulast - Freeform, whistleblower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candicame/pseuds/candicame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple from Mount Massive consummate their marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outlasting Love

Waylon sighed as she heaved the bucket from the sink. The kitchen was the only place that still had water, and her doting husband, Eddie, had made great efforts to secure it for her. He had gone to farther efforts, after she had thrown a fit about his lack of cleanliness, to render fat and find the acid required to make soap- a skill she had not known he possed. But he had always seemed self-sufficient and had a great deal of knowledge that she would have thought lost to the ages. The kitchen didn't exactly sparkle, but it was a far cry better than when she had first seen it. Eddie hadn't bothered to clean it when he gave it to her, the cook was still slumped in a corner of the floor, and his previous provisions were still strewn everywhere, staining brown, while he continued to leak crimson all over her new floor.

But, that wasn't really Eddie's fault. Men, she assumed, were just not as diligent with cleanliness as they should be. But Eddie should know better; of all people. She knew that his mother had raised him better than that. He always spoke fondly of her, and she could not imagine how such a woman could raise a son who simply produced so much filth. She shook her head. She and Eddie had been trying for children for some time now, and once their baby was born, she was going to make damn sure that his bad habits didn't rub off of them. She moved to the fridge, and noticed that it was not as cold as it should have been. Their home, Mount Massive, was self reliant, off the grid, with a system of solar panels and back-up generators, but they had been prone to failure recently. And the fridge was fully stocked from her husband's most recent hunting trip. That was quite a bit of meat to go bad. There was nothing for it. She would have to send him to the roof to fix it.

She preheated the oven for the roast she was planning and went about wiping down the counters. She cleaned and prepared the meat, along with some herbs from the garden, sincerely wishing that she had some vegetable seeds, and made a mental note to ask Eddie to find some. He always tried to hard to get her anything she wanted. She stuck the roast in the oven, washed the juices from her hands, sighed as the lights flickered, another warning sign that the power was about to go out, and headed back to her husband's workshop.

Eddie was, she often bragged to the friends she had for dinner, shaking in their restraints, a brilliant artist. He was a fashion designer, tho for some reason he hated that term; he would rather be called a tailor; a label that she felt did not do justice to his talent. He had made all of her clothes, even her gorgeous wedding dress, the one that she planned to hand down to her own child someday. He had outfitted the nursery, their living quarters, and had even promised her table-settings now that they had the kitchen to themselves. She had asked for a new corset; something that he had been reluctant to provide, telling her that she wouldn't be able to wear corsets during the pregnancy and had best wait to see if her figure suffered.

He said it more delicately, of course, always a gentleman, but she knew what he meant. As much as he loved her, and told her, over and over, that he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on... she felt it difficult to believe him. She, like everyone in Mount Massive, could remember very little of her life before moving to the secluded little town, but she knew that she had NEVER been pretty in the traditional sense. She had been, if her faded memories served true, a regular tomboy. She had worn her hair in a pixie cut, she had never worn dresses or make-up or even massive amounts of jewelry. She had never thought she was pretty enough, feminine enough for such things. But Eddie had seen past that. He didn't believe that she needed things like make-up; he said that her face, her bone structure were perfect- but she knew that if she asked, he would find a way to make it happen. She wanted to be the beauty he believed she was.

But her figure, despite her best efforts to plump up, remained slim and boyish, and she had finally resigned that if she was going to have any sort of figure to brag about she was going to have to force it. Eddie, much to her astonishment, had not thrown out the idea of breast implants instantly- but he worried, and after he brought it up, so did she, that it might damage her ability to breastfeed. And they both had to be realists. The climate in Mt. Massive was harsh, and the mortality rate high. She couldn't undergo unnecessary surgeries. She had very nearly died from the first one, the one she had desperately needed. A doctor couldn't be found, due to the remoteness- the only doctor in the village was a pure butcher, and even if she had not been weary of him, Eddie would never let the madman near his precious delicate flower; so he was forced to undertake the task himself. Despite his best efforts, and infection had set in, and tho Eddie had miraculously found the medicine to cure it, it had left her with a delicate constitution.

The town needed a real doctor and that was all there was to it. But she had no power to attract one, and thus tried to put the thought out of her mind as she pushed open the door to Eddie's workshop and froze. She was unable to comprehend the sight in front of her. Eddie; her Eddie; her doting husband, her savor and protector and perfect lover was standing above his work-table. The work-table was what caught and held her gaze.

There was a woman there. She was laying, arms bound to the edges, legs splayed, one across the table and one delicately and deliberately thrown over her husband HER HUSBAND'S broad shoulder. She could feel herself shaking. She noticed the strait razor in Eddie's hands. Was he... was he SHAVING HER FUCKING LEGS!?

Eddie's eyes flew to the door and widened in shock.

"Darling!" He dropped the girl's leg and threw up his arms, "It isn't what it looks like. I wasn't-"

"WHORE!" she cut him off- pushed past him. She would deal with Eddie later- he was not a priority at the moment, but her rage would be redirected as soon as she dealt with the immediate threat. Eddie was obviously the best catch in the village Everyone was envious of her, even going so far as to refer to her, in hushed whispers as 'the bride'.

"Darling, please," Eddie began again but she wasn't listening. She walked up and grabbed the razor from his astonished hand.

"Filthy whore!" she repeated, "HOMEWRECKER! After EVERYTHING we've built together, EVERYTHING we've done I WILL NOT LET YOU TAKE HIM! Walk in here and think you can SEDUCE MY HUSBAND!" she brought the razor down across the girl's chest.

Eddie gasped, "Darling no!"

But he wasn't fast enough. His wife was mad with rage, cutting and slicing indiscriminately This girl wasn't even PRETTY. She was fat, useless; her vulgarity still hung between her legs. If Eddie was going to cheat on her, to betray her, couldn't he have at least done it with someone more beautiful? More deserving?

"Darling, you're destroying it!" Eddie's voice was strong; his dominate, bedroom voice, designed to make her weak in the knees. Well, she wasn't succumbing to it. Not this time. She spun on him, the girl's torso now nothing more than ribbons of meat. Her perfect dress stained and probably destroyed. It served him right. He had worked hard on the dress? She had worked hard on the marriage.

"How could you!" She asked, brandishing the bloody razor, tears welling in her eyes, "Aren't I enough for you, Eddie!? Aren't I pretty enough? Am I not a good wife!?"

"Darling!" Eddie took her hands, easily overpowering her, twice the size and all muscle, "Darling, look at me. You're mistaken. I love you. And only you. How could you think otherwise? This isn't a girl. It's the raw materials for the leather I need to make your new corset. Think love, think!"

She blinked. She raised her head and looked around. Beside the worktable was a cart; with his culling tools and a sketch, a beautiful sketch. He had meant to surprise her. He had changed his mind and gotten her exactly what she asked for. And she had. She gasped, her mouth flying open. She had accused him of infidelity. Oh how embarrassed he would be- Eddie was a perfect gentleman. This would haunt him. This would destroy his psyche- he would think that she didn't trust him.

"Oh, Eddie! My love! My darling!" The tears flowed freely from her eyes now, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I knew better. In my heart I knew better. I just. I saw you and I," she was rambling now and she knew it, "I was jealous, Eddie. I don't think I'm good enough for you. I know that every girl in the village wants you. I can't stand the thought of losing you!"

Eddie kissed her forehead.

"Darling," he assured her, "Please don't talk like that. You are beautiful, and kind and loving. You never have to worry about me straying. Please don't ever think... that I would betray you." His strong hands were already nearly able to engulf her waist completely. She hoped that with a little more tightwaisting he would manage the feat.

"I do think that you've destroyed the leather, however." He added with a sigh. She could be so moody. But he had read that women became moody during pregnancy... perhaps it was a good sign.

"Oh Eddie, I'm so sorry." She moved from him and undid the animal's restraints.

"I may be able to salvage something," he sighed, turning it over, "The back seems fairly flawless. I had meant it to be a surprise, darling."

"Oh Eddie," She snuggled into his arm, "Why are you so good to me? After what I put you through?"

With an unbelievable ease, he shoved the carcass off the table and onto the floor. Then lifted his darling wife onto the table.

"Because I love you," he explained patiently.

She mewed softly under him and guided him into a deep, loving kiss. He pulled her to the edge of the table, closing the space between them.

"I must admit," he chuckled, "I have a bit of a jealous streak myself, darling. It was a little exhilarating watching you fight for me. Claim me."

"Really?" She asked sheepishly, batting her eyelashes. Eddie was reminded of how innocent his love was. She had never been with a man before him. She had been naive in the ways of love and very self conscious, about her looks and her wifely duty. He couldn't blame her for the overreaction, the violent display.

"Of course," he kissed her, gently this time, a chaste kiss. He was so used to trying to ignore the stiffening, throbbing in his pants; years of chastity had cemented the habit- and the blissful marriage still seemed like a hazy dream. But he was married, and there was no reason not to consummate their love, as often as they wished.

"I want to make love to you," he confessed.

"Oh Eddie," she purred, grabbed his vest and wrapped her small legs around his hips.

He was normally such a gentle lover, very seldom deviating from the traditional, missionary position in their marriage bed. But something in the air told them both that this was the perfect spot, the perfect time to be a little more risque. After all, they would never be able to make love in the open, in the work-room, after the children were born. Intimacy would have to be more demure, hidden moments and late nights. Best to seize the opportunity before it was snatched away.

Eddie was accustomed to taking control, and so it was he who undid his belt, wondering, as he did, what it would be like to remain clothed. For the rest of the day he would be able to smell her intoxicating scent on his outfit, he would breath it in as he sat over the sewing machine working on her gift. He decided it sounded like a good proposition indeed. He pried her legs apart to reach under the skirt and slowly, gently remove her lacy panties. His love was still quite sensitive, and he suspected that may be the case forever. She shuddered at his touch and buried her face in his chest.

She had been, in a very real sense, made for him. As he entered her, prodding, gently, they locked together perfectly. He remembered, with a wary smile, how reluctant she had been about the surgery. But he had practiced. Oh how he had practiced. And he had made her everything that she was supposed to be. Nurtured her blossom into full womanhood. And now she rocked against him, content and completely full, brimming with ecstasy She didn't remember her reluctance anymore. Everything before Eddie faded away and was unwelcome. There was nothing outside now, only the groom and his bride, and their everlasting love.

Eddie liked to keep music on while he worked, and kept his pace to the slow tempo, the rhythm of a warbling mid-century love song. He had been so worried about scarring, about tissue rejection, but thankfully none of those worries had come to fruition. Instead she was wet and warm and welcoming; tensing with her building orgasm. Sensing her pleasure, he quickened his pace, careful, always so careful not to hurt her. To treat her like the delicate little doll she was. Her back arched from the table and she let out a scream of joy as her legs tightened around his hips, jerking him forward unexpectedly- frightening him a little. He was always a little scared for her, just because of the size difference, but she took him; seemed to desire all of him and as always it was bliss, perfection. He held her hips, more shapely in his eyes than in hers, and ground against them, letting her ride that wave, panting and breathless, instructing him that, "oh god, Eddie, yes! That spot, right there, grind RIGHT THERE," let her throngs of passion die down before he picked up the pace. One of many.

He pressed his lips to hers and she wrapped her arms his neck. As he pulled back to breath he wondered... she was so light. He had easily held her before with one hand. Could he pick her up? He held her by the hips and moved away from the table as she braced herself on his shoulders and impaled herself. He guided her, moving her hips up and down, slamming her much more forcefully than he had meant to- letting his passion override his common sense. He could feel himself twitching and tensing inside of her, feel the warmth pooling under his stomach.

She must have sensed his desire because her grip on his shoulders tightened and she begged, "Oh Eddie- Eddie. Cum inside me; fill me with your seed." she leaned in, letting him do everything, clinging to him in desperation as he obeyed her pleas with a gasp. He fell against the nearby wall and caught himself, panting.

"Darling," he let himself slide until he was sitting, stroking her hair as she ground down on his sensitive member, trying to get everything she could from him. He shuddered at the sensation. "that was magnificent"

"Oh please don't move, Eddie," she sighed, leaning into his chest.

He nodded in agreement, "Yes... not for the moment, anyway. Let it take."

She snuggled into him as he continued to stroke her hair, their argument forgotten. They were like newlyweds again.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and it was the bride who came to her senses first. "Oh, Eddie, love. I think I may have burned the roast!"

"It's alright, darling," He assured her, pushing her gently to the floor so he could finally withdraw, "You were distracted."

She giggled as he placed a series of playful kisses along her face.

"Unfortunately," he continued, I have to get back to work. I have to hang this so it can bleed out or the meat and the leather will be spoiled with the bloating.

"Oh!" she had forgotten her original errand, in all the excitement, "I need you to fix the electricity for me. When you have time."

"I'm afraid I don't feel like getting up, now that I've laid down," he responded playfully.

"Eddie," she giggled, and leaned up to cuddle into him.

"But I suppose my work is never done," he smiled and heaved himself to his feet, whistling his favorite song with a spring in his step. He had finally found happiness. His new bride, their future children, his tailor business Yes, they were isolated, but it was a small price to pay for the bliss that had swollen within his heart.

He picked up the body and carried it to the auditorium. She hadn't destroyed too much of the flesh after all. He chuckled at her misguided passion as he lopped the rope around the former patient's throat. He took a carving knife from his back pocket and slit it open, just under the rope. He grabbed the opposite end of the rope and heaved; this corpse joining, just a little below the dozens that already littered the ceiling That task completed, he wiped the knife on a cloth and began to pack up his tool box to check on the electricity as he dear wife had asked. As he left the living quarters, he turned and locked the door, returning the ring of keys to his pocket. After all, he had to be very careful with his wife. The village- the asylum- was full of madmen who would not be as kind as dear Eddie. He withdrew the knife and made his way up the stairs, amid the frightened screams and shuffling sound of the fleeing variants, he began to sing, the joy of domestic life overtaking him.

"When I was a boy, my mother said to me

Get married, son, and see how happy you will be."


End file.
